Do You Remember, Marco?
by jeankirschteinz
Summary: Jean wonders if Marco remembers they first time the made love. A short JeanMarco drabble.


Do you remember when it all began, Marco? The night it all happened? When shaky fingers met warm skin. And short breaths escaped lips. The quick beating of hearts and the fluttering of stomaches made the other quiver with a mix of nerves and restlessness. When every moan and every whimper came out in rhythm to the other. All problems, all worries, drowned out of minds by the hesitant movements made by another.

Do you remember, Marco? Behind the barracks and in the dark - where no one could find us. The moment when warm lips met and eyes opened wide with shock. The lengthy strokes of calloused fingers on pale skin. That smooth curve to the muscle hidden under a sleeve. The way strands of hair tickled a freckled face. The way foreheads rested against each other. A Voice numb and broken - too afraid to say anything. Too afraid that one wrong word, one wrong move, one wrong breath could ruin everything.

Do you remember, Marco? The unbuttoning of shirts. The way hands trembled as they touched newly exposed skin. The way torsos were explored and every touch was an electrifying one. When fingertips brushed over aroused buds. When a moan louder than the others found its way out. The way shirts found their way to the ground and legs were thrown over each other. The way a freckled body was straddled over another one.

Do you remember, Marco? When hips rested against each other. When the feeling of arousal pooled down between legs. When movement became necessary. The way anxious hands grabbed up around a waist. The way hips were now pushed down harder. When friction was felt between groins.

Do you remember, Marco? When buttons were undone. When pale thighs were exposed. When palms stroked against thin cloth covering little skin. When after minutes everything was finally exposed. When slow stokes began and warm words met blushing ears. The chill that crawled down the spine. The bite that was carried across red lips. The growing urge of wanting more.

Do you remember, Marco? When trails of kisses covered every inch on the way down. When a slick tongue met the tip. When aching fingers rushed to grab dark hair. When the new movements of a mouth contributed what fingers could not. When hips started to involuntarily buck. When swear words all of the sudden became the only vocabulary heard. When wet noises were heard between legs. When climax was almost hit, but not yet reached.

When we knew it was time.

Do you remember, Marco? The way positions flipped. The way now light hair was on top - trickling down onto a damp forehead. When all too slowly fingers were pressed in. When grunts of pain had to be silenced by apologizing lips. When digits curled into place and those sounds of pain became sounds of pleasure. When a soft groan for need escaped lips because there was a sudden emptiness. When the slow push that s followed soon filled that emptiness.

Do you remember, Marco? When tightness surrounded every inch. When beads of sweat dripped from every inch of skin. When the thrusts of one met the thrusts of another and quickly picked up pace. When golden eyes met sweet carmel ones and it was in that moment it became real.

Do you remember, Marco? When those eyes met and tears streamed. When emotions took over and hands reached tight behind backs to bring two bodies together into a solid embrace. When there was no inch left between and the warmth was overwhelming. When, at the moment, everything was how it should be. When the climax quickly overpowered both and then slow sighs that followed.

Do you remember, Marco? The time we first made love. The time two people became one. The time each heart matched the other. The best moment of our lives. When in that moment everything was bliss. In that moment we fell in love. I held your hand and you held mine. The way you gave me your heart and I gave you mine.

Do you remember, Marco? Because I'm scared. Because I'm scared you don't remember that moment. I'm scared you don't remember those touches. I'm scared you don't remember those warm breaths. I'm scared you don't remember the butterflies and the hesitation and the tenderness. I'm scared you don't remember it Marco... Because I'm scared you don't remember me, Jean.

Do you remember, Marco? You gave me your heart and I gave you mine. When two people became whole...

...But what is one supposed to do when the other half is gone?


End file.
